


Ashes

by orphan_account



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Reborn arrives to the charming town of Namimori to train one Sawada Tsunayoshi to become the Tenth boss of the Vongola Famiglia. Nice schools, welcoming people, picturesque scenery, and yet…
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	1. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjlQs-spJwE

**Arc 1: Shitai-Hen**

**Chapter 1: Spark**

* * *

Reborn was Unhappy.

Now, this wasn’t unusual of him, even he would admit, as ever since he was cursed, he has had little to no reason to be a happy man.

He certainly was unhappy enough as things were, true.

However, today, he decided he was even unhappier than normal.

The day started, as usual, with him bemoaning the current state of affairs, before Leon tried – and failed – to dropkick him out of his funk. Then, after taking care of his hygiene, and triple-checking his fedora’s integrity, he set out of the hotel room he booked for his preliminary sweep of the city. The files he received from the Vongola for his latest mission were… Concerning. To say the least.

However, he didn’t get to where he was by being timid or believing everything his employers told him. Being able to properly investigate and assess a situation was critical for any self-respecting hitman. After all, in the end, he was still a human. One single mistake was all it would take for him to meet his untimely end.

However, he was Reborn, the World’s Strongest hitman, and he’d be damned if he messed up because of something so easy.

First though, was leaving the Airport.

The place was surprisingly modern and clearly took a large amount of money to build. Large glass panes, almost as tall as the building itself, let the sunlight stream in, the crisscrossing steel beams keeping them in place. The inner plaza was bigger than what was needed, especially for a town like this, the floor covered by a mosaic depicting some sort of procession at night. The human figures were clothed in red and white, which his studies told him were religious garments. The procession was following a sinuous path through the mountain, towards the top, where a small shrine was bathed by the fake sunset’s light.

His black eyes followed the scene and took in the building more carefully.

The sun was making the offerings on the mosaic glitter, and would do it all day long, if he calculated its trajectory correctly. The Scene was surrounded by a traditional city, melded with a representation of Namimori itself, figures that he guessed were Japanese Youkai dancing in the shadows and leading to the very real shops lining the walls of the building, wind chimes leading a, dare he say, charming air to the melody he was currently hearing. Piano and violin, played by a group of youth in uniform between two shops.

His eyes narrowed. The elegant sound and lacquer were distinctive, and Reborn liked to think of himself as something of a connoisseur of Arts in general, as it helped both his image and infiltration work. He walked towards the group and, easily enough, his hunch was proven correct. A Bösendorfer piano, played by a middle-schooler.

Looking at it more carefully, he could see that this could be applied to everything here. The luxury of the place allowed him to finally understand why he felt on edge.

He was reminded of the Valinetti private airport in Napoli.

Which was odd, because he was guaranteed that there was no mafia influence in this town, yet he could already see influences and traces of its favored artistic motifs. Baroque ceilings, a meld of cultures that was completely out of place…

Reborn’s lips thinned.

Not even an hour here and his file was useless already.

“Oh, hello there, are you waiting for someone?” A kindly woman asked him, hands on her hips. Her face was slightly wrinkled, and a few strands of gray were visible on her temples. She wore a simple, yet good quality green yukata covered by an immaculate white apron. He could spy a few small scars on her hands that came from cooking, and the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes.

She also smelled like tea, coffee, and sugar. Likely the waitress of the coffee shop he could see right next to the middle school orchestra. His decision was easy enough to make, as he strained his throat a bit.

“Not quite, Signora, I am here on a business trip and was surprised by what I saw here. Such a place would be perfectly at home in an international airport.” A surprisingly deep voice came out of his mouth. He then gave a smile at the naked surprise on the woman’s face. “My apologies for surprising you. Contrary to what my looks may suggest, I am a grown man.”

“I...I see...” The woman breathed, closed her eyes, and after a few seconds, reopened them, this time with a professional smile on her face. “This happens more often than one would believe. After the … firestorm, two years ago, this place and many more had to be rebuilt, and it was decided that the shops in the area would regroup here, to ensure the funds would be more efficiently used.” She turned around, signaling for him to follow towards a pillar next to the entrance. Its sides were lined with the traditional shelves of pamphlets. “Where were- Ah! Here they are!” The woman grabbed one victoriously, before handing it to Reborn. He gave the document a quick scan and felt as if he had been punched by Lal in the gut.

“A firestorm, you say?” He began slowly, forcing himself to remain calm. This didn't sound good.

This was definitely not in his information package.

“I’m sorry, Stranger-san, but I have a shop to see to.”The woman smiled blandly, before walking away.

Her clenched fists half-hidden by her sleeves were indication enough that he shouldn’t pry any further. Even that idiot lackey could guess the woman probably lost someone to the fire, if, as the casualties indicate, three-quarters of the population were lost in the incident.

An incident whose epicenter was the last known location of the Sawada household.

He closed his eyes.  
Something was wrong with this place.

He could accept some holes in the files. He could even understand it if he were told that Sawada Nana divorced the numbskull and took a one-way trip to the Bahamas with her son, and not see it on the files.

But this?

This was Tarente all over again.

Opening his eyes, he decided he needed more information, and headed towards the small orchestra.

The pianist was a slender girl with an attractive, yet androgynous face. Her skin was lightly tanned and her hair long enough to reach the seat. She was wearing a dark blue uniform jacket over a white shirt and red bow tie, a school crest over her left breast, while also wearing a pleated gray skirt, white knee-socks and black mary-janes.

The lead violinist was a boy wearing a similar dark blue jacket, red tie, and dark grey trousers. His hair was dark brown and cut short, a burn mark visible on his face, from his right cheekbone to his ear, and another on his right forearm, though it seemed it didn’t bother him in the slightest. A visible trace of the firestorm he’d just been told about. The burns looked about that old, in any case.

The rest wore similar clothes, obviously, a school uniform, and the crest was that of Namimori Elementary School, which Tsunayoshi was supposed to have graduated from this year. Speaking of which, he spied a girl with a similar skirt at a nearby cafe table, lacking a jacket and bow, her white shirt’s top buttons undone revealing a necklace that was holding two medallions forming a heart. She was listening to the music, eyes half-closed and chin propped on her hands.

This one looked like a middle-schooler, of mixed origins too, if her long orange hair and round eyes were to be trusted. She was a pretty little thing, yet she had an air of melancholy to her. Reborn decided this one would need a more personal approach.

Shifting his body language for a younger and bouncy one, he opened his eyes wide and affected an air of innocence he knew drew in women’s maternal instinct.

“Hello!” He faked struggling to get onto the chair in front of her, and she nodded, not answering him, lowering her head slightly to sip her drink through a straw. It was a bright yellow and smelled like lemon and passionfruit.

“What’s your name, Onee-san?” He asked, unwilling to let the conversation die so early. “Are you friends with them?” He pointed at the orchestra. “I like the music! I hope I can be good at it too, one day!”

“Haven’t your parents taught you not to talk to strangers?” Her voice was sweet, even as she half-heartedly tried to shoo him away. Thankfully, Reborn was an expert at ignoring refusal.

“Nuh-huh! I’m Reborn! Now we’re not strangers! What’s your name, pretty Onee-san?”

The girl laughed.

“Sasagawa Kyoko.” One of her hands left its spot and she shifted so that her right hand would support her head’s weight as her left waved towards the musicians. “They’re my underclassmen. I don’t know them much personally. As for the music…” A wistful smile appeared on her face. “If you’re willing to put in the effort to train, I don’t see why not.”

Reborn nodded exaggeratedly. So far so good, even though it seems she lost someone too. Now came the difficult part.

“Hey hey! Mom and Dad have been calling auntie Nana but it didn’t connect to they got out and told me to wait here, but they told me about cousin Tsuna” The girl’s smile froze, worrying the hitman, but he continued as if he didn’t see it. “But I don’t know him you know? He goes to school here, do you know him? Is he really a walking sushi? Uncle ‘Mitsu said he was half-tuna! Is sushi good? Mom won’t let me have any!”

“Ah.” The girl was visibly shaken by something here, and he didn’t like where this was going. “Sawada-kun is...Nice.” She finished, at a loss for words, her brow furrowing. “He’s a bit clumsy and shy. He’s a… quiet person. Tsubasa-kun could probably tell you more about him to be honest...”

Well, at least, the brat was alive, it would have been embarrassing for him to fail his mission before it even began.

“He’s playing the piano right now.”

...’He’?

Reborn turned around and saw the girl, who apparently was a boy.

“But Onee-san, she’s clearly a girl!”

That got a laugh out of Kyoko.

“They like to keep us guessing. No one really knows what exactly they are, and they don’t really care what we consider them to be, gender-wise. I think they’re a boy though. Ha-” Kyoko’s smile disappeared, replaced by pure, raw pain. “A good friend of mine thought they were a girl...I’m sorry.” She got up, leaving money on the table. “I should get going now, Onii-san is waiting for me.” Her smile was so fake his face hurt for her as she collected her things and hefted a massive bouquet of sunflowers over her shoulder.

Her frame looked so small, compared to the automatic doors that closed behind her.

Reborn frowned.

Three-quarters of the population, huh?

Yet no one outside heard of it?

He got his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. All the bars were there, the signal was alright, no jamming here.

He didn’t look forward to having to play around mourning people again. Getting Dino out of his was hard enough already. A job was a job, though, the man mused, throwing one last look at the androgynous person, before following the long-haired girl into the street.

The sun was bright, the scenery was nice, the people were well-clothed, and the buildings, beautiful, their windows reflecting the afternoon's sunlight.

And yet, the town felt desolated, the streets too wide and empty.

'Something is wrong' the wind chimes sang almost mockingly.

Reborn gritted his teeth as he readjusted his fedora and started walking along the street, ignoring the curious gazes following him.

Leon curled cautiously on his shoulder.

He already regretted accepting the Ninth’s request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there!
> 
> Welcome to this little... experiment of mine, I suppose?
> 
> I figure that, after quite a bit of time lurking, I could try to give back to the community.
> 
> Please do try to enjoy your stay, enven though there isn't much to see yet. 
> 
> Though, I suppose some may think the unseen and unsaid here is what may be interesting...
> 
> (Here's Ashes!Kyoko, btw: https://www.deviantart.com/cryingoriole/art/Ashes-Kyoko-825495616)


	2. Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reborn isn't an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2XUaEptoR4

**Arc 1: Shitai-Hen**

**  
Chapter 2: Breeze**

* * *

  
  
“When you catch Dame-Mitsu, give him a taste of your Fist of Justice for me.” Deadpanned Reborn in the middle of the street, his left hand holding his phone at his ear’s level, though at a safe distance from it, while his right one kept Leon tucked under his arm.  
  
“Dunno what he’s done to you, but sure! Guy won’t see what hit him, kora!” Colonello’s too loud voice could be heard from the device with crystal clarity, which made sense considering the amount of money Reborn sunk into buying it, then making sure it could resist being chucked down from a building, survive being thrown from a waterfall, being stepped on by an elephant or microwaved by Lackey. The less said about how much he had to pay monthly for the number, the better.  
  
“Then consider your Moonlight Casino debt to be paid. Lal will let you in CEDEF’s HQ.” The hitman concluded with a clipped voice, checking the various pamphlets he got in the airport as he walked down the street, deciding to forego the original plan to use a taxi. Summer was almost here anyway, and he needed to get a feel of the town that wasn’t ‘Something is wrong here!’.  
  
“…I _really_ want to ask, but I think I’m going to choose to live and shut up.” The blond arcobaleno spoke quietly, before he hung up, earning himself a nod of approval as his conversation partner stored the now-silent phone in his pocket and took in the sights.  
  
The streets were clean.  
  
Now, one would think this wasn’t odd in and of itself, but.  
  
No gum. No litter. No odd traces from liquids of dubious origin. He couldn’t even spy sand or dust on the walkway. No annoying gritty noises when he walked.  
  
He wasn’t sure if he should shoot whoever was behind this, or chain them up to a desk and have them plan all the cities. Probably both. Or he’d just shoot the numbskull. Now that was a promising idea…  
  
Of course, Reborn being Reborn, he had mastered the art of walking on autopilot as he was fantasizing about brutally murdering his incompetent employers – an indispensable skill in this profession – and soon enough found himself in front of the current Namimori Middle school.  
  
The building was rectangular, had four levels and he could spy some greenery on the rooftop. It was covered with what seemed to be cream-colored parging, large windows surrounding every side of the school. On the side, he could see a roses covered trellis, facing a garden that was, no doubt, maintained by the students themselves. In front of him stood the school gates, sturdy metal painted white, right next to what seemed to be a message board affixed to the wall.  
  
There were a few students here, flitting in and out of the small shops he could see in front of the school, which made sense, considering lessons had ended earlier if he wasn’t mistaken. Looking at it more closely, most of them wore their uniform properly, and he had yet to spot a delinquent, which meant he could use his more efficient, but vulnerable, disguises without risking to cause a commotion.  
  
Ducking into a nearby cafe’s toilets, he reached under his suit’s vest into the special pocket Verde gave them after watching one too many science fiction series, and got out his infiltration wardrobe and a makeup kit.  
  
A few minutes later, a small, heavily wrinkled woman got out, her walk slow and posture hunched, clad in a faded, yet well-maintained gray yukata ornate with branches covered with cherry blossoms. He squinted around, hemming and hawing and hesitantly walking in circles in front of the crepe shop, right between the arcade and video game shops, where several female students were eating, until one of them finally approached her.  
  
“Hello there, sorry if Ha-I’m being a bother, but were you looking for something, obaa-san?”  
  
The girl had her hair cut in a short bob, bangs longer in the front, framing her face and reaching her chin, her long, handmade earrings that reached mid-neck made all the more obvious because of the shine of the charms covering them. She had a kind smile and a spark in her eyes that spoke of exuberant energy, yet her restrained body language spoke of her efforts to keep it under control.  
  
“Why thank you, dear. I’m looking for my great-grandson, a surprise you see? My no-good worrywart of a grandson never lets me.”  
  
“I...See?” The girl answered, looking slightly confused, causing the old woman to reach up and pat her arm comfortingly.  
  
“Worry not for me, even though the times changed, it has always been hard for us women to be seen as strong and independent.” The old woman winked at the girl, who blinked, before nodding seriously. “But enough about me and- _Oh my_ , how rude of me! I was about to ask for your name before introducing myself, this cannot do at all! My apologies, my name is Umarekawaru Futaba, feel free to call me Fu-chan, Futaba-san makes me feel old.” She laughed coquettishly at the girl’s gobsmacked expression.  
  
“And Ha- I’m Miura Haru!” The girl answered energetically once she recovered. “Uhm, Fu...Fu-chan?” She spoke out tentatively, rolling the name in her mouth to see how it felt. “May I… Help you find him?” A hint of hesitation, characteristic of people who have an overbearing tendency of helping people, only to see those attempts thrown back into their faces. A burn too many that finally stuck.  
  
The older woman answered her with a beam that could rival the sun in its brightness.  
  
“Why, how kind and helpful of you! Oh but you don’t even know who he is, do you? He should be around your height, with the most unmanageable brown hair you will ever see and his great-grandfather’s orange eyes~” The woman fanned herself a bit, then frowned, before huffing. “But I hear that my idiotic grandson called him ‘ _Tuna-fishie_ ’, of all things!”  
The girl mouthed ‘tuna’ before she came to a realization.  
  
“Oh, I see who you’re talking about! He’s not studying here though!” The older woman’s frown deepened.  
  
“ _Is that so_?”  
  
“Yes!” The girl nodded emphatically. “He’s part of that special class at Nami Elementary, those who...” Her energy lowered. “Those who had to be held back because they spent too much time in the hospital after… After the fire.” She finished in a whisper, visibly drooping, before suddenly renewing her energy. “But I hear they’re fine now, so don’t worry! I know where the class is, let me show you!” She realized she had begun walking off without the woman, then turned around to walk back to see a street empty of old women.  
  
Her surprised “Hahi?!” could be heard far and wide, as Reborn angrily, yet delicately put his wig into its place in his disguises suitcase.  
  
“ _The investigation is advancing, Leon_.” He hissed, before taking a deep breath and calming down. Lashing out would only get him back in that terrible habit of his, and that one took years to get rid of. He did not have years to spare here and did not want to see how the Vongola would react if he accidentally broke Timoteo’s heir in a fit of fury.  
  
Alright. Change of plans. What should Reborn do next?  
  
Ensuring the Sawada spawn got placed in the correct age-level would be a priority. This would definitely be held against him when he became boss, a perceived weakness he wouldn’t need on top of his civilian upbringing and the complete lack of alliances he would bring with him. Hm, perhaps he should bring in Dino earlier. Depending on the level of the trauma he’d have to deal with, having a positive male influence around would probably help tremendously, and Dame-Mitsu wouldn’t cut it. That was something to consider, should the boy’s support network be insufficient.  
  
The girl Kyoko’s reaction upon hearing his name was worrying him if you add in that his house was near the start of the fire, its unnatural, unimpeded spread and the fact the boy survived when he was supposed to be inactive…  
  
Timoteo had sworn that the boy’s flames were sealed, but he wasn’t so sure they were now. In other words, he’d need to be extremely careful with the boy, in case his Intuition was active, because he’d be that much harder to manipulate in the right direction. Intuition had its limits, but acting with at least five degrees of removal for even the smallest of moves would be troublesome, to say the least.  
  
Meaning his task was two-fold here: Prepare grounds for his transfer, and actually get his studies to the required level for a transfer to be possible. This may take the rest of this year to do, depending on how hopeless the boy is, so Reborn should be able to interfere with the rosters for next year’s classes and fill it with potentially useful underlings for the boy. To do that, however, he’d have to spread his surveillance net a bit more than expected. And break into an elementary and middle school both.  
  
_Truly_ , a task worthy of _him_ , Reborn thought cynically.  
  
He was going to demand an extra for this mission, doing grunt work such as this was demeaning!  
  
The sun was going down though, so he’d have to go back to his room to decide how to go about putting his plan to execution.  
  
After a short detour, during which he broke into the elementary school to get the files of all the students in Sawada’s class, he found himself sipping from a cup, the too-gritty coffee rubbing uncomfortably against his palate. He should have known better than to order it from the hotel itself.

As expected the class itself was filled with students around the Spawn’s age, whose loyalty he could spend the year earning while working on skipping grades. A few of those faces were familiar, and some of those names, even more.  
  
Yamamoto Tsubasa, the gender-neutral pianist, who Kyoko implied had some level of pre-established relationship with the Spawn also happened to be Yamamoto Tsuyoshi’s younger child. He didn’t know anything about the older one, as he was a middle-schooler, but their loyalty would prove profitable if handled right. Though, the fact they were adopted may be a complication.  
  
Hanazono Makoto, the scarred boy who played the violin, noted to be a troublemaker with good grades. A rebellion that started after the fire and his father’s death as he was doing his duty as a fireman. His uncle is the head of Namimori’s police, which would provide them with a lot of useful information and alibis if needed. This one would be an easy recruit with the right pitch, and most of his fights were caused by his protecting his classmates. In fact, he was protecting them almost obsessively and was likely the one who held together their little group.  
  
Haihara Ichika, daughter of the infamous Arabella de la Stella, Most beautiful black widow of Italy before her retirement, making her the Ranking Prince’s cousin on her mother’s side. An unmotivated slacker, but the girl had nice facial features, even though her body may end up on the lower end of development, under her mother’s tutelage and with a much-needed wardrobe update, she would make for a terrifying diplomat for the Family.  
  
All in all, an oddly fruitful harvest, Reborn opened Tsunayoshi’s file as his phone began to ring, freezing after reading it.  
  
“Reborn what in the name of-” It was Baka-Mitsu.  
  
“ _Shut up_.” Reborn interrupted immediately the man’s rant, which got him to quiet down.  
  
“And now, Dame-Mitsu, “Reborn, finally out of patience, spoke with the most lethal tone he could muster “You are going to put down your paperwork, take the rest of the day off, and tell me, _exactly and in great details, what you are hiding from me_.”  
  
The deathly silence on the other side of the phone brought a smile of dark satisfaction to the hitman’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, so soon~
> 
> I didn't expect the interest, it makes the nonexistent void that usually functions as my heart feel all fuzzy~ Could still be indigestion though.
> 
> I'm keeping things slow, show you guys the sights, you know? Taking time to put the setting into place and all so, don't expect any tuna-fishie for a few chapters yet!
> 
> Ashes!Haru: https://www.deviantart.com/cryingoriole/art/Ashes-Haru-825592167


	3. Cloud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsgb8YDzf4A

**Arc 1: Shitai-Hen**

* * *

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Reborn asked, thoroughly done with this entire situation and having half a mind to just postpone the mission, fly to Italy, and shoot the man himself.

“There is… A situation in Namimori. Normally I would tell you to ignore everything and just focus on keeping Tsuna safe while I straighten things up with the Ninth, but I’m sure by now, you’re curious enough that you’ll go looking around even if I tell you not to...” Damn straight he was going to investigate. “Long story short, and all I can tell you on phone. In front of Namimori Middle, there is a bulletin board. You will find a set of rules on it. Read it very carefully and no matter what you do, do not break the rules. The overseers of the town will know and they will take action.”

“Are you implying that Namimori is unsafe?” The hitman’s eyes narrowed, already thinking up several ways of extracting the Spawn and sterilizing the city. He hated infestation scenarios, they always made everything worse.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” The head of CEDEF told him seriously. “They already know we are talking right now, so whatever you’re thinking of doing, stop right now. If they are provoked… The damage they could cause would be worse than any of your temper tantrums. The Omerta is at stake here.”

“Then why isn’t the Vindice intervening?” They did after the Estraneo Fiasco.

“Because the overseers are playing smart, and there is one thing they have that the Vindice wants above all else. For all intents and purposes, consider them allied.” Iemitsu sighed, exhaustion seeping into his voice.

A chill went down Reborn’s spine. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Look. Give me… Let’s say one week. In the meantime, you’re free to continue your mission but do not mention the Vongola, or Mafia in general. In fact, just tell Tsuna my boss sent you for extra tutoring after something came up at work, he’ll understand. One week, I’ll be there then. Be careful, the Varia’s enforcers have been dispatched too. I don’t expect them to last.” The man laughed darkly, before hanging up the phone, leaving the hitman alone with his thoughts.

This was bigger than what he expected. Alright, analysis pause.

The fake toddler let go of the phone, crossed his legs and arms and stared at a spot on the bed.

First, and most concerning: Namimori was under control of a Family that somehow managed to enter in the good graces of the Vindice.

Second: Iemitsu has been keeping many secrets from everyone, including the Ninth.

Third: The Spawn is likely aware of the Mafia, despite the Ninth forbidding it.

Fourth: Iemitsu had a lot more information about the Family controlling this town.

In conclusion: Iemitsu has had repeated contact with this unknown Family for years now, may or _may not_ be loyal to the Vongola and to top it off, he also had people successfully infiltrating the Varia. _The Varia_!

Something that he previously dismissed came to his mind.

No, ‘infiltrating’ probably wasn’t correct. A few years ago, Iemitsu suddenly changed opinions and decided to support Xanxus’ claim to the Vongola, and he had been was very vocal in his refusal to bring in his spawn after the Ninth’s other sons died. It’s highly likely that the Young Lion made an alliance with the Varia, but then the Ninth should know…

...Which is why the old man hired Reborn, with a contract that stipulated that the spawn had to be trained as the _Vongola Tenth_.

He sighed.

He hated having to deal with inner family conflicts.

That left him with him alone, with a recalcitrant student who was, according to the deliberately falsified files, worse than useless, against the Varia, the CEDEF, the _Vindice_ , and the as of right now unknown Family in charge of the town.

The Sun Arcobaleno grinned in anticipation.

It looks like he wasn’t going to be as bored as he thought he would be.

* * *

**June 18 th, 2020**

‘Namimori Rule number 23: Do not set the cats, or any other cute little animal, on fire. Fire is dangerous and should be used with caution.’

Reborn nodded at the nugget of wisdom as he read it, after taking a photo of the rule list that Iemitsu directed him towards. Normal, naive people would scoff at this particular rule and dismiss it as common sense but Reborn, and the writer of this list, knew The Truth.

People are stupid and said stupidity should be planned around.

On another note, now he knew why the town was so clean, as he could spy no less than forty rules about littering. It said a lot about the citizen’s devotion to the Family that they all followed it.

This should be the moment he dragged an unsuspecting civilian into a dark corner and interrogate them, however Iemitsu’s warning was clear, and Rule 88 forbade non-consensual abduction.

Very sensible, in his professional opinion, though in this particular case, it was a hindrance.

Still, as it was far into nighttime, he might want to begin with his infiltration job, he mused as his black eyes scanned the building that had gained an ominous look after the last ray of sunlight disappeared. A brief scan of the perimeter didn’t reveal any signs of dilapidation or structural weaknesses, which would have made him work a bit more, were he back in his true form. However, one of the advantages of this cursed appearance was that his smaller frame, which allowed him to be stealthier at night.

After one last sweep to ensure there were no witnesses, he raised his hand, Leon jumping in and turning into a thin wire linked to a hook that he attached to the silencer of his gun. He aimed at the top of the building, a bit over the railings to compensate for the weight and pressed the trigger. The outline was rather easy to see whenever the full moon was peeking through the clouds.

He’d need to be quick to avoid detection.

Hidden by a nearby trash can, he waited until the clouds once again covered the silver light source then, as he was sure it wouldn’t reappear soon, reemerged from his hiding spot and pressed the gun’s trigger once more, the hooked weapon’s inner mechanisms dragging up to the rooftop.

There, he landed silently, his padded shoes and light weight ensuring not even the possible paper would cause any noise, and looked around.

The rooftop was clear and visible, surrounded by railings to keep people from falling off, and the only entrance was a small door. As expected, he’s managed to land in what seemed to be a small blind spot in the surveillance camera, which happened to be in perfect working order, if the small light were to be believed. He reached into his jacket, revealing a small tablet with a wire, a present from Verde after he did him a favor with his latest minion uprising, and waited until the camera shifted.

It didn’t.

Plan B it was.

Reborn moved back, made sure that Leon-Hook was safely fastened to the railing, and jumped off from the ledge, using the momentum and the wire to run across the wall’s surface towards the back of the small cubic entrance of the roof, where he knew he couldn’t be seen.

He re-emerged and climbed up, now landing directly on top of the entrance, and plugged the adaptative outlet of the wire to the camera. He didn’t know all of the technical terms, a weakness he intended to correct eventually, and waited until the loading bar he could see on the tablet reached 100%, indicating that the camera’s video feed had successfully been looped.

Now sure he wouldn’t risk being seen, he let himself fall down, landing squarely in front of the door, and begain inspecting the door. Metallic and reinforced, the hinges weren’t well-oiled and would likely creak loudly if he opened the door, which wouldn’t do.

He put back his tablet inside of his jacket and got two liquid droppers. One filled with a cleaning agent, the other filled with the best doorhinge grease he could get his hands on, in case this exact kind of situations happened.

Cleaning and re-greasing the hinges took a bit of time, but it was necessary work in his line of work.

One casual look under the door later, and he was fairly sure no one would impede his next step. His black eyes landed on the door itself.

One small tug revealed that, as expected, it was locked. Another inspection later, he knew that this was a pin lock. He needed to be quick.

One pinch on Leon-Hook had the chameleon turn into a bump key that he inserted inside of the lock and hit it with the handle of his gun, however the lack of reaction from the lock meant this lock had some sort of bumping protection, which was above and beyond a normal school should use on the rooftop’s outside lock of all things.

In other words, he should expect even more complications inside.

If Reborn wasn’t sure silence was imperative here, he’d have clicked his tongue.

Leon-Key became Leon-Tension-Wrench, and he had to cycle through picks until the lock finally gave way when he tried using his snake rake pick. An unusual type of lock to use in this area, though not that uncommon if you think of it from a European perspective.

However, the deed was done, the door opened, and Reborn immediately looked at the ceiling. Ventilation shafts and Isolating layers would be his friends.

Putting on a cloth mask to keep himself from breathing in dust or noxious materials, Leon-Hook was once more put to use.

It took a bit of navigating but he managed to find the director’s office.

This was where the complications began.

The office was bathed in darkness and the ventilation shaft wasn’t an ideal place to spy on the room, but from a first glance, it was empty of human life, although it was put under electronic surveillance, as was the case with every other room in this place.

A large desk separated the space in two, bookshelves lining the wall behind the director’s seat, with potted plants on the two corners, framing the shelves. On each of the lateral walls, pictures and prizes were covering the surface, almost hiding the pale-colored wallpaper. The final side, second half of the room, was left bare save for two seats, most likely a subtle power play to enforce a sense of superiority of the director inside of the visitor’s mind.

Between the bookshelves and the potted plant, on the Director’s seat’s right side, there was a small, gray filing cabinet, where the physical copy of the data on students was likely locked.

Reborn stared a bit at the window and balcony he could see on the right side, before deciding to neutralize the camera and get on with his job.

The fact it all went well was what alarmed him. That meant whoever was in charge of surveillance, they noticed he was here.

Cursing in his mind, he quickly got what he came here fore, and traced back his steps.

Indeed, there was someone here.

The moonlight was illuminating the lone figure’s delightfully curvy frame, and even though she was back to the light, he could still make out some details. A beautiful vision in purple, clad in a qipao and feather boa, fan in hand.

“My, who do we have here.” The woman laughed softly, not showing any worry about what was happening.

That woman was either confident in her ability to face him, arrogant or didn’t see him as a threat.

“This is a bit late to decide to inspect our Namimori Middle’s educational facilities for yourself, isn’t it, Reborn-san?

And for some reason, something about her seemed worryingly familiar.

Considering his luck so far….

Reborn was fairly certain he’d finally made first contact with Namimori’s elusive Mafia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Describing an night-time infiltration of a professional criminal was hard.
> 
> That the man's supposedly a genius makes it worse.
> 
> Keeping it all in a 2020 words format finished it.
> 
> Now... * Starts boss fight music *


End file.
